A Tale of Trench Coats
by Inkyfingerstoo
Summary: Jess is inspired to create new memories associated with her tan trench coat, all she needs is for Nick to play along.


There's a significance to the tan trench coat in both of their lives; one positive and one negative.

For him, it provided confidence...a whole other persona: "Trench coat Nick." It had enabled him to be fearless and was the catalyst for their first kiss.

For her, it also inspired a separate persona: "Tiger Boobs," but this had had the opposite effect, resulting in a scared young woman, lost and burned by love. It was the beginning of (what she had thought was) a downward spiral and total upheaval of her life and the collapse of what she had dreamed for her future.

But Jess, being the ever optimistic person that she is, wanted to alter her trench coat significance to something better...still naughty...but better...something hopeful...

* * *

The idea forms after an e-mail from Edgar. He still contacts her every now and again for writing advice regarding his graphic novel, which she's pleased as punch to provide.

It takes shape when she finds a flattened blue cap stuck under the passenger seat in Nick's car (along with several pamphlets on gorillas, a half eaten hot dog, and a sneaker with no laces).

It begins to solidify after she does her spring closet cleaning and happens upon her tan trench coat. _The_ tan trench coat.

The final seal is the plaid shirt he chooses to wear that day...the orange plaid shirt.

Jessica Day has never and will never be the confident coquettish seductress...but Jessica Knight can...and will be tonight.

* * *

They've been arguing a lot lately. About stupid shit. He's not really sure if they ever argue about smart shit but whatever; he's in full chivalry mode, picking her up from school, something he hasn't done since she got the Vice Principal gig, her crazy new hours not allowing for it. There's a bottle of pink wine for her (and a 12 pack of El Brazo for him) in the back seat of his car ready and waiting...so he thinks he's got all his bases covered.

As he walks through the halls towards Jess's office he rolls up the sleeves of the orange flannel he donned that day, stopping to admire a few student drawings taped on the walls, specifically an excellent depiction of a Gorilla playing baseball. Maybe he'll ask Jess if he can keep that bad boy and frame it. Grinning crookedly, he moves further down the hall towards the School Officer's enclave.

A jolt of excitement goes through him when he spots his navy blue cap hanging on the doorknob to her office. He's been looking all over for that! Tran gave it to him. Old man had placed it in his hands after one of their park therapy sessions and pointed to his own logo-less powder blue cap. He thought he had lost it forever after taking a skillet to the head that crazy day he took on the persona of Julius Pepperwood.

In an even better mood, he opens her office door with his head lowered, fitting the cap on. It sits semi-fully (thanks to his yam-like skull) and he grins to himself, closing the door behind him.

"Hey, Jess, where'd you fin-," all thought and movement ceases once he raises his head.

Directly in front of him, sits Jess, reclining in the rickety, forest green leather chair she found at a yard sale a few weeks ago, bare feet crossed, resting on top of her desk. She hates the glaring fluorescent lights of the school so the only light source is the soft glow from a desk lamp with a yellow and green plaid shade. The foot on top rises, and she rubs her big toe along her calf. Her very bare calf connected to a very bare thigh that peaks out from the split in the tan trench coat she's wearing. Her hands are occupied with a green file folder and a pair of shiny silver aviators obscure her eyes. If Nick had any trace of coherent thought in his head he'd see an image of himself reflected in them that he'd undoubtedly be embarrassed by. Eyes bulging, mouth gaping, one orange plaid sleeve shoved to his elbow, the other drooping at his wrist, a tuft of brown hair sticking out from underneath the Pepperwood cap.

Neither speak. Nick feels like his eyes are spinning in his head with the amount of places on Jess's body they keep jerking to. The minimal light makes the fading summer-tan of her legs appear a rich bronze and gives the lotioned skin an ethereal shine. He traces the line of her leg to the shadow beneath the trench coat her thigh disappears into at its apex; then his eyes rise to the deep V of skin exposed on her chest, the top 2 buttons of the coat blessedly unbuttoned to reveal a mouth watering amount of cleavage; and finally to the elegant length of her neck revealed due to her hair messily wrapped around a pencil on top of her head. Big swallow. Hard blink. Rinse. Repeat.

Half-hard, belly tight, he holds his breath when she snaps the green folder closed and swings her legs off the desk to the right and stands in a graceful motion, the leather chair continuing to rotate behind her. She rounds the desk, the left side being flush with the filing cabinets (it's not exactly a spacious office); flinging the folder on to the desk, she walks slowly to stand directly in front of him, his eyes zero-in on the single, small brown button holding the trench together, willing it to fall off. Seriously if someone offered him any superpower right then he'd demand 'Button-disintegrating powers,' in hindsight that might not be the best choice for a superpower, not much in the way of hero-doing it could do, but right now, in this moment, it would save lives.

She's saying something. Some string of words he can't make out because her body is speaking too loud. The patches of skin revealed by her movements screaming at him to look, touch, taste, something!

She leans forward, her right arm reaching around him to push the lock button on the door knob, the dull click seeming to echo in the small office.

"What?" He finally manages to squeak out.

"I was just saying I believe I've made some progress on the Cutler case...Mr. Pepperwood..." Her voice is low and steady, but there's an unspoken question underneath the name.

The only question in Nick's mind is, 'why isn't she touching him?' He desperately wants to be touched and do the touching. Of course he could take the initiative but it seems his limbs have ceased functioning for the moment.

Her act slips up at his hesitation. He can't make out her expression behind the aviators but she does bite her lip, the only evidence he can see of her nervousness. She needs reassurance. And he's more than willing to give it.

Steeling himself, Nick lifts his chin, falling into character easily, eyes hooded as he gazes down at her and licks his lips, "Ms. Knight..."

Her shoulders sag in relief underneath the trench coat as he acquiesces to play along. Normally he'd be having a mini-freak out over the role-play route they're clearly about to go down; what should he say, how should he act? In the past, he'd kind of half-ass it, falling in and out of character, not committing due to either laziness or self-consciousness. But, now, something seems to wash over him, to the point where he's not even thinking anything at all, he's just feeling and going for it.

Yeah, it's a full hard-on now...and they haven't even touched yet, but he's quick to remedy that and the words come to him easily.

"You're working awfully late. Seems a gal like you outta have somewhere to be on a Friday night, instead of in her boss's office." He lifts his right hand and presses it into her torso (he knows she's got a thing for his hands), the heal directly over the single button holding the coat together, his thumb brushes the underside of her right breast while the pointer and middle finger rest against the tantalizingly warm skin revealed between the coat lapels, the ring and pinky finger pressing into her left breast. Her chest begins to rise and fall in deep breaths beneath his hand, he takes a moment to watch his hand, hypnotized by the movement before he applies pressure and she takes careful steps backward towards her desk, him mimicking every step so they don't separate more than a foot.

Her butt and thighs hit the desk gently and she leans backward as he moves his hand, stroking up her chest, sure to have every finger against her skins as he does.

"Partner's office," Jess breathlessly corrects.

Nick's eyebrows scrunch in confusion before puffing out an amused laugh. She's smirking at him so he reaches up with the hand not against her skin to snatch the aviators off her face and slips them up his crooked nose.

It's a weird thing of his but he always wants to see Jess's eyes during sex. Role-play or not. Something about it just affects him deeply and he's not sure if she's aware of it. It's not that he demands eye contact the entire time, more of a confidence thing as well as an informative thing. Her eyes are just so damn expressive; every movement, every caress and the reaction it elicits reflects out from their shining blue depths and never fails to hit him straight in the gut but in a good way. He'd take that punch any day of the week.

Those very blue eyes have a bright sheen in them as they dart between his now concealed brown ones. She's still smirking at him though it's threatening to transform into a full blown grin. Nick hums as he leans into her, crowding her space so that she's forced to sway backward and brace her hands against the desk.

"Pepperwood and his partner, Jessica Knight. I'll have to get the marquee on the door changed."

Jess awards him with a closed mouth smile and nod of her head.

"That's gonna cost money...you said there's progress on the Cutler case? We'll need the payout for it." The hand that had been stroking the skin of her chest slides up to grasp the long angle of her neck, fingers combing into the hair at the base of her skull as she turns to the desk to grab the green folder she had discarded earlier. Her head still turned she opens the folder and begins to read.

"Jay Cutler, last spotted, um, trading pig skins near a run down Soldier's Field warehouse..." she trails off as Nick leans down to brush his lips along the stretched column of her neck, a smile on his lips as he listens to her detailed account of what 'master criminal' Jay Cutler is up to. She's still pressed up against the desk, one hand tightly gripping the edge, he shuffles slightly and gets a foot between hers, straddling her left leg and pressing his thigh into the trench coat dangling between her legs. His left hand grasps at her waist, pressing hard into the tan material, one finger tangling in the belt loop of the coat.

What was the point of the belt anyway? Coat already had buttons, why does it need a belt too? Women and their fashion and buttons and zippers and clasps and belts. He'll never understand it. Also, WHY THE FUCK WAS HE THINKING ABOUT WOMEN'S FASHION?

Refocusing, Nick adds his tongue to the upstroke as he travels up the sweet smelling skin of her neck. God, she always smelled so damn good.

"A-a-and if we just..."Jess stutters, her chin dipping down and bumping his forehead as she turns to face forward. He moves to firmly latch his mouth to a spot under the corner of her jaw. Her hand that had been gripping the edge of the desk reaches up to push at his torso just below his chest.

"I-I'm not sure partner's should be engaging in such illicit activities, do you Mr. Pepperwood? Seems a bit-" she's cut off by a gasp as his lips enclose over her ear lobe. "Unprofessional," she breathes out and trembles.

"Unprofessional?" Nick parrots. He leans away from the paradise of her neck to look down into her eyes. They're wide and glassy, peach patches of color high on her cheekbones, lips moist and a dark shade of red as if the blood has been pumping there in anticipation, ripening them in preparation for him to take a bite.

He stands tall, releasing both hands from the back of her hair and waist respectively and steps his left foot back from the space between her legs. Jess breathes out heavily at the loss of pressure there and begins to sit up straight against the desk but before she can Nick looms over her, arms coming down to cage her against the desk. He maneuvers his feet so that they straddle hers and rests his weight on his knuckles. Jess stiffens, blinking up into the mirrored surface of the aviators in anticipation and curiosity.

"Ms. Knight, if anyone's being unprofessional..." Nick's left hand drops away from the desk and his fingers brush against the bottom of the trench coat along her mid-thigh, the pads of his fingertips brush gently against her skin along the outside of her thigh before slowly and deliberately moving up, causing Jess's eyelids to flutter. His thumb spreads wide tracing a fiery path in the middle of her leg and she struggles to keep the appendage from trembling. He swallows a groan as his hand reaches her hip without resistance, the trench coat bunched up at her waist.

"I'd say it's the gal not wearing pandies in my office," he says, emphasizing the 'd.'

Jess's eyes gleam wickedly at him. "What are ya gonna do, Mr. Pepperwood...fire me?" She drops the green folder to the floor and brings both hands to the single latched button on the coat and slides it through the hole before returning her hands to the desk and leaning back. The coat falls open a little more but doesn't reveal all to his seeking eyes. His right hand comes up to rest on her collarbone before slipping beneath the material to cup he left breast, thumb tracing over her hard nipple. He doesn't stay long, moving down to grasp her waist with both hands and suddenly lifting her to the desk surface. She yelps in surprise and giggles while her legs spread to accommodate him, knees bumping the outside of his jean clad thighs.

"We're zombie detectives, Jessica, professionalism was out the door from the start." With that he drops to his knees and her breath leaves her in a gasp. Her hands immediately go for his hat, spinning it on his head so that it sits backwards while he grasps her legs from behind the knees, sliding his hands along her thighs to pull them over his broad shoulders. He sees Jess's hands grasp the edge of her desk in a white knuckled grip as she wiggles her hips forward to position herself perfectly. His own hands encircle her waist, fingers digging into the hip bones, both to keep her safe and for his own pleasure, before zeroing in on the slick flesh in front of him and closing the distance quickly. He listens carefully for the hitch in Jess's breath that she always does when he goes down on her. She'll breath in quick then hold her breath until she can't take it anymore and moan out all the trapped air. It's one of his favorite things.

He's rewarded when he lays his tongue on her and moves it up in a long slow stroke. Her heels dig into his back and there's a thump as she falls back on her elbows. He peeks up to see the coat has fallen open from her position to frame her body in the most beautiful way.

This woman may kill him. Or maybe the zombies will. Either way, going right now would be a sweet way to go.

His tongue laps and flicks at her and her thighs begin to tremble where they rest next to his ears. He's about to work her more aggressively, hoping to surprise her into orgasm when he feels her heel digging into his clavicle and pushing him away.

"Come here," her voice is drenched in need and he happily complies, standing as Jess surges forward, knocking his blue cap off to card her fingers through his hair as he latches on to her neck.

His hands return to her breasts and he bends, planning to get his mouth on them but is blocked by Jess's arms as she brings them up to his shirt and he watches her begin to pull at his buttons, their breaths heavy and loud.

* * *

Jess frantically unbuttons his shirt with shaking fingers as he runs his hands up and down the tops of her thighs. Her heart is pounding and there's a throb between her legs that's increasingly difficult to ignore.

Suddenly, his mouth is on hers again as she frees the last button, her hands press into his chest, nails raking his skin as she moves them up until she's cupping his scruffy cheeks between her palms.

"Pepper-Pepperwood," she stutters as his hand grips behind her knee and brings her flush against the bulge in his jeans.

"Yes, Knight?" He asks, his right hand releases her knee to travel up the underside of her thigh until both hands are kneading her ass.

"I sure hope this won't make you think less of me as a detective."

"Never. You'll always be my go-to gal when it comes to detecting," he says with such warm affection that she almost breaks character to tell him how much that means to her, but her current twirliness is too powerful.

Instead of blurting sentiments, she yanks at the collar of his shirt and their mouths come together aggressively, tongues stroking before he retreats to suck firmly on her bottom lip. The momentum brings his thighs flush with desk but she keeps pulling and leaning back so he climbs up, one knee between her legs, the other on the outside of her left thigh. He rises up, cupping her face between both hands and Jess strains her neck back to keep her lips in contact with his. Eventually he's too high to reach and Jess uses her hands to scoot further back, now precariously close to toppling over the other end of the desk, the clack of various colored pens and pencils hitting the ground fill her ears but she doesn't care.

Jessica Knight couldn't care less about overturned stationary. Not when she's got Julius Pepperwood between her thighs.

This is one of the sexiest things she's ever done. Her heart races with a fiery combination of lust, love and the illicitness of doing it in her school office...or should she say, "The Pepperwood Detective Agency's" offices.

The thought makes her giddy, so she refocus and brings her hands to Nick's, er, Pepperwood's belt, that is so conveniently locating directly in front of her face.

He's breathing heavily and she sees her reflection shining back from the aviators he still wears, her lips are red and swollen, cheeks flushed with desire, eyes heavy-lidded and then his oh-so-sexy hands cup her jaw. His waist shifts forward a bit as she makes quick work of pulling his belt through the loops and tossing it over her shoulder, the leather and metal hitting the ground with clank.

She grips the edge of his jeans with her left hand and teases the bulge in his jeans with a brief but firm massage with her right. He breaths out heavily and she peaks up at him biting her lip before releasing him and using both hands to undo the button and lower the zip of his jeans.

She gently yanks his jeans and boxers down together, his erection finally freed from its confines. From his position she can only get his pants down to about mid-thigh, but it doesn't matter, and she grips his dick with her right hand before lowering her mouth and engulfing him, eliciting a drawn out groan from above her.

She sucks firmly, hallowing out her cheeks before pulling back and running her tongue around his tip and she feels his entire body tremble, undoubtedly both from the feeling of her mouth on him and the position on his knees, (the poor young-old man).

He inhales sharply as she releases him and places both hands on his hips and pushes him to the left. He complies with her unspoken instruction with the usual level of grace, flopping over on to his butt, back pressed against the file cabinet behind him. She moves with him and as he settles back she climbs into his lap, her left foot knocking the wireless mouse Principal Foster had given her as a "welcome to Vice-Principal-hood" gift.

Both are frantic and unmindful of the chaos they are causing, too consumed with desire to care.

Nick grabs at her waist underneath the trench coat, holding her firmly as she aligns herself with him, however she pauses just before she sinks down.

"Well, Mr. Pepperwood," she breathes heavily.

The sunglasses sit crookedly on his nose, the orange plaid shirt open and rumpled and his hair is wild both from the hat and their vigorous activities. He couldn't look more attractive to her.

"Ms. Knight," he smirks. "I think it's time we close this case."

There's a beat of silence before both dissolve into giggles. This moment right here is why they love each other so much. They are simply delighted by the other in every way. Sure there's frustration, battles about life-style choices, laziness, organization, responsibility; but in the end there's just so much love and laughter that it's all easily overcome.

Jess cups his face and leans down to kiss him, lips molding and tilting to his. As it speeds up in intensity she finally lowers herself, his right hand helping to guide himself in.

He grunts in pleasure, their lips separating with a smack as his head falls back to knock against the cabinet behind him, but she doesn't give him any time to recover as she begins to move, hips rocking in a fluid motion.

The edges of the trench coat brush teasingly along the outsides of her breasts; as if he senses her reaction to it, Nick slides his hands up from her waist to cup both breasts, thumbs tracing around her nipples.

Gasping, her thrusts increase in both speed and force, Nick doing what he can from his position to match her. His hands return to grip her waist tightly, pulling her to him with even more force, causing sparks of pleasure to shoot through her body and she gasps at the pressure. Gripping his collar she leans back, allowing for her clit to come in to contact with his pelvis more and she moans heavily, her eyes slipping closed.

"Jess, Jess, unh," she barely hears him over the veritable orchestra of sounds in the small office. The flutter of paper and folders to the ground, the knock of the desk against the cabinet with their fierce movements, her desk lamp crashing down somewhere behind her. The soft glow of the light flashing and fading as the lamp rolls on her desk, or maybe she's just beginning to see stars behind her eyelids.

He's dropped out of character but at this point Jess doesn't care - she has too.

Her orgasm builds and by the way Nick's hands keep flexing on her waist, she knows he's close too. The sweet coiling below her stomach builds and her mouth drops open as her hips and mind chase that excruciatingly beautiful pleasure.

"Yes, yes, yes," she moans as she plateaus, sweet wave after washing over her as she trembles and grips Nick's shirt tightly in her fist. Her hips continue to rock with her orgasm, then there's a final, loud bang of wood against metal as Nick leans forward, tongue laving up the side of her neck to her ear but then his head drops suddenly to her shoulder with a grunting whoosh of breath.

* * *

They both come down slowly, chests rising and falling with heavy breaths, a few faded waves of pleasure still rippling through them. Her hair is half falling out of the twist so he reaches up and extracts the pencil, the dark locks falling around her shoulders as he runs both hands through it, eliciting a soft appreciative moan from her.

She releases her grip on the collar of his plaid shirt, eyes hooded, and pulls off the crooked aviators, meeting his eyes for the first time since this little performance began.

Her lips lift in a smile, taking in his own hooded expression of total contentment.

"Well, that was a lot of fun..." his voice is low and lethargic, and he smiles when Jess dissolves into giggles. The sensation quite overwhelming seeing as he's still inside her.

Gripping the collar of the trench coat he pulls her to him, meeting her lips in a gentle kiss. The tightness of her lips reveal she's still smiling and he pulls the coat collars wide, smoothing his hands down her shoulders as the coat falls down her arms.

Jess yanks at one of the sleeves caught on her wrist, behind her back, successfully dislodging it and tosses the coat to the ground.

His hands grip her waist before sliding around to her lower back. Unmindful of the sweat on her skin, he presses her closer to him and his hands rise up the smooth skin of her back, fingers curling at her shoulders.

"Wait," her hands push against his chest and begin to tug at the collar of his shirt. It's his turn to wiggle around awkwardly, getting the slightly sweaty plaid shirt off with Jess's assistance. Soon enough he's free and it joins Jess's coat on the floor.

She wraps her arms around his broad shoulders when he pulls her close once more; pressed together so tightly it seems as through their hearts are communicating through the traveling vibrations from one chest to the other. He ducks his head to rest his forehead in the space between her shoulder and neck, pressing soft kisses here and there.

Jess sighs in contentment, unwilling to break the calm of the moment. However, it doesn't last too long.

"Hey Jess?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm starting to cramp up...a man isn't meant to sit like this for an extended period of time."

She laughs, swatting at his chest as she lifts off of him and carefully swings her leg to the ground before dipping to grab the crumpled trench coat from the ground.

Behind her she hears Nick grunt as he shifts jerkily off the desk, the wire from her lamp tangled on his foot creating a brief dizzying light show. With a few more grunts, grumbles and a high pitched squeak as his bare butt comes in contact with an errant pink highlighter, he comes off the desk with the grace of a newborn horse, displacing a few more folders onto the ground.

"Sorry," he mumbles as he lifts his boxers and jeans up his legs. Jess grins as she finishes tying the knot to the trench coat and picks up his plaid shirt from the ground.

She leans up on her toes to give him a quick peck on the lips. "It's okay, this office is getting a full clorox wipe down and reorganization on Sunday."

He chuckles as he swings his arm through the shirt Jess handed him, watching her as she bends to pick up the various pens, pencils, markers, papers and folders scattered on the floor. She tosses them haphazardly on the desk, returning the lamp to it's original upright position as well.

His head tilts to the side, taking her in from behind, her brown hair, mussed and a little wild is bunched in the collar of her trench coat. _The_ trench coat. That gives Nick pause.

Stepping up behind her, he gently frees the hair trapped beneath the coat before rubbing his hands from her shoulders down to her elbows then slipping them around her waist to toy with the knot at her stomach.

"I thought you were never going to wear a tan trench ever again, bad memories and all that."

She turns in his arms, her hands coming up to push at his chest to create some space and gives him a once over, smiling at his wonky shirt buttons. Slipping the bottom button of the shirt through the hole to correct his lazy dressing job, she meets his eyes.

"I just made a memory a million times better," the love and delight clear in her voice.

Nick smiles bashfully in response and presses a kiss to her forehead as she finishes re-buttoning his shirt.

"Man, I love trench coats," he says under his breath and Jess giggles.

"Me too."

 _fin_


End file.
